


take your clothes off, this is a hijack

by theheadgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Pollen, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 19:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8297416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheadgirl/pseuds/theheadgirl
Summary: A standard Ministry inspection of the Hogwarts greenhouses goes a bit awry towards the back of Greenhouse Four.





	

"Professor Longbottom!" 

The voice carries easily over the snow-covered ground, although it takes Neville a moment of squinting against the winter sunlight to spot the speaker. He raises a hand in greeting. 

"Afternoon, Mr. Weasley." The formality of the greetings is ridiculous - they've known each other for over a decade now, but this is official Ministry business, and rules are rules.

Closing the distance between them, Percy reaches for Neville's hand and they shake. 

"Are we expecting anyone else?" Neville asks. 

Percy shakes his head. "Minister Shacklebolt asked me to come ahead of the group tomorrow to make sure everything was ready to go." He sighs, though he manages to make it sound important. "The American representatives can be a bit ... exacting. I've been asked to ensure everything will be to their specifications."

"Come on in, then; we'll get started." The two men start towards the greenhouses. As they walk, Neville glances at his companion, feeling a mild jolt of surprise at the differences from the mental image of him that locked in about ten years ago: a pompous seventeen-year-old with heavy horn-rimmed glasses, towering over the third-years. Something about his face is sharper and harder than Neville remembers, something firmer about the jaw. It's also a surprise to realize they're of a height now, so Neville can look right at him. He's lean, maybe a bit on the thin side, but it's hard to tell for sure under the billows of his traveling cloak. Overall, not unattractive. Chiding himself for his unprofessional thoughts, he turns his attention to the door, pushing it closed.

"How's the rest of the school? Up to the Americans' standards, I hope?"

"For the most part. I've asked if there's anything we can do about Peeves, but Headmistress McGonagall informed me that it would be like trying to redirect a thunderstorm." His mouth twists slightly. "We've warned the Americans about him before, so I suppose we'll have to make it very clear we're not kidding."

"If they get rotten eggs dropped on them, at least you did your due diligence." 

Percy smiles crookedly. Neville tries not to stare. "A small comfort."

"Take your cloak?" Neville offers, holding out a hand. "It's warm in here, and we won't be outside much."

"Thanks." Percy unbuttons his cloak and Neville takes it, going back into his office to hang it up.

"The Americans will be going through all the greenhouses?" Neville asks. Percy nods.

"Something about authenticity?" 

"Authenticity?" Neville echoes. "What does that have to do with anything?"

The redhead hesitates for just a moment. "They've their reasons, of course, which I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to disclose. "

Neville grins. "Understood."

Percy scowls at him, then turns, clearly ending the conversation. "Shall we begin the tour, Professor?"

"Right away, Mr. Weasley."

The tour begins in Greenhouse One, the tamest of the three, and Neville leads Percy through the speech and points of interest he'll be using for the Americans. 

"They asked that you emphasize if any of the plants are specific to the UK or Europe, and if there are any that would do particularly poorly in a hot, humid environment," Percy says at one point.

"What does the temperature matter?" Neville asks. He gestures to a plant with delicate white flowers, making the air shimmer around it. "The spiny wintergreen is protected by a Cooling Charm. Couldn't they just do the same?"

"I -" Percy closes his mouth, reconsiders, and says instead, "They've their reasons for asking."

"Of course." 

Greenhouses Two and Three are much the same, pointing out interesting plants and giving a few of their uses. As they go into Greenhouse Four, there's a delicate tinkling sound, like tiny bells brushed by a soft breeze. 

"What's that?" Percy asks, looking up and around.

Neville points to a plant about halfway up the wall with large golden blossoms. "That's the _Alstroemeria campana_ , commonly known as the 'lovers' bells.' It's said that they only ring in the presence of lovers."

"That seems ... presumptuous of them."

Neville laughs. "Well, they're no good anyway. They ring every time I come in here with anyone. I think they're just trying to set me up with someone."

"They sound like my mother." Both men laugh, and as they move on, the golden blossoms jingle again, releasing a few puffs of iridescent pollen into the air. Percy absently brushes some from the shoulder of his jacket, but neither of them take much notice of it.

"Is it warmer back here?" Percy asks a little later, towards the back of Greenhouse Four. He pulls the pocket square from his jacket and dabs at his forehead and neck, neatly refolding it and tucking it into his pocket again. 

"Shouldn't be significantly so," Neville replies. "We keep the greenhouses at a consistent temperature. But you're right, it does seem hotter here." His guest is starting to sweat, and Neville's own cardigan and collared shirt are stifling. He wonders if the temperature charms are going a bit wonky. "Hang on, I'll double-check the charms. Can't have it too hot for the Americans, can we?"

He takes a step away and a wave of heat washes over him, so intense he's dizzy, and he staggers, flailing for purchase.

"Neville!" Hands on his shoulders, stronger than expected, steadying him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I just - things went a bit - " He waves vaguely, turning back, and Percy is right there. He's so close: lips parted, face flushed just so at the curve of his cheekbones, blue eyes slightly glazed behind his glasses. 

Neville doesn't think. He moves forward that half-inch or so and crushes their lips together, heated, wanting, edged with desperation. He feels Percy stiffen for a moment, then the redhead is moving, pinning Neville against the table, their bodies pressed tightly against each other. Neville hooks a hand at the back of Percy's neck, fingers pushing up into the thick red hair there, anchoring him. Percy makes a noise like a purr of pleasure, and that shouldn't be nearly as hot as it is. His mouth is still open slightly and Neville takes advantage of it. Tongues meet, twisting together, sending a sharp frisson of heat down Neville's spine. He arches against the other man, hand seizing more firmly against the back of his head. The heat is everywhere. Is it coming from him, from Percy, or is it the temperature charms? The source doesn't matter, really; the kissing seems to at once tamp it down and light it up. 

They break apart, breathless. Neville gasps in great heaving breaths, the hot air harsh against his dry lips. Unthinking, he licks them, eyes locked on Percy. The other man looks properly ravished, so Neville can only imagine how he must look, pinned against the table. He wonders if his hair is as wild and mussed, his lips that kiss-swollen and his face quite as flushed. 

Percy shifts, deliberate, hand moving between them. His fingers find the buttons of Neville's cardigan and pop the first one open with one smooth movement. It's a dexterity Neville didn't quite expect and he inhales. The second and third buttons follow in short order, then they're kissing again, those long fingers pushing the cardigan off his shoulders so it falls on the table behind him. Neville's hips shift against the other man's, and the noise he makes is closer to a whimper than anything else. Eager, he pushes closer, rocking inelegantly but enthusiastically. Percy gasps, returning the rocking, one hand curling around Neville's hip to hold him in place. It's not so much kissing at this point as much as it is mouths pressing together to stifle any further sounds that want to come out. 

Percy leans back, breathing hard. Neville whines and shifts forward, trying to capture his lips again, wanting the heat and friction back. The redhead turns his head so Neville's mouth misses, shaking his head slightly.

"No, I - I just - trust me," he says, and the knowledge that he, Neville, reduced Percy to a jumble of words is very satisfying. 

What's even more satisfying is when the redhead drops to his knees in front of him, hands going for the button and zip of Neville's slacks. With the same ease and dexterity that had surprised Neville earlier, he quickly undoes the fastenings there, letting out a soft sound of approval at what he sees. Neville feels pleased and a little shy at the look on his face. Anything else quickly vanishes when Percy moves forward, hands taking hold of his hips, and Neville is enveloped in the hot wet suction of the redhead's mouth.

"Oh God!" It's too loud but utterly beyond his control. Unthinking, he grabs at Percy's hair, fingers twisting again into the gelled curls. He's gripping so tightly it has to hurt, but Percy doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he's more enthusiastic because of it, moving faster, his tongue finding each of the most sensitive spots and exploiting them mercilessly.

"Oh my God, your mouth," Neville gasps. His hips twitch, trying to press further into that wet heat. Percy hums in response, and takes him all the way down. Neville's mind goes blank for a moment, overwhelmed. He can't help the groan that escapes him, one that comes from deep inside his chest. Percy pulls back, thin shoulders heaving, then goes right back to finish what he started. Neville writhes against the table, back arching, and he'd swear he's never been this loud or responsive before. 

"God, Percy - I'm going to - " His words vanish into a wordless burst of sound, hand grabbing at the edge of the table so hard his fingers sting. 

Percy sits back on his heels, hands on Neville’s hips, looking distinctly rumpled and deeply satisfied. Getting up, he closes the distance between them again, and Neville can taste himself on the redhead's tongue. His fingers tighten at the back of his head to keep the other man in place. It's an intriguing taste and he's not about to let him go so easily.

Percy's started rubbing against him, reminding Neville that they're not done yet. 

"What do you want?" Neville breathes. 

"What?" Percy seems to take a moment to put meaning to the sounds Neville is making, then shakes his head, less a 'no' than an attempt to focus. "I want - I don't care, I want - "

Words seem to be too difficult and he draws back in. Their teeth clack together in the ferocity of it, and Neville feels a fresh wave of need. Turnabout, he decides, is fair play. Breaking the kiss, more regretfully than he would have thought, he reaches down and slides his hand between them. Percy's breath shakes as he exhales, and he moves against it, apparently unable to stop himself.

"Your turn," Neville says. 

His fingers don't have the same nimbleness or surety that Percy's had as he undoes his trousers, but the result seems to be just as satisfactory. It's a bit of an awkward angle at first, so he gets Percy up on the table instead, and it's much better for them both. His hand moves slowly, then faster, tightening here or loosening just there. This close, there's no missing anything: things like the breathy soft sounds Percy's making, how he closes his eyes like he needs to shut the world out. He's quiet but everything Neville does pulls some sort of reaction from him. It makes him want to experiment, to see what pulls these noises from him and how he can make him come wholly undone. 

Neville moves to Percy's neck and presses his mouth to the pale skin there. A hand slips into his hair, a clear invitation. Neville accepts with gusto, kissing at first, and progressing to harder nips and bites when nothing seems unwelcome. Each one gets a slightly louder reaction from Percy, a sharper jerk of his body, pressing forward more tightly. 

Pushing the collar of the suit jacket aside, Neville finds the junction of shoulder and neck and bites down, hard, probably leaving marks even through the white fabric of Percy's dress shirt. The redhead cries out hoarsely, writhing against Neville's hand, and then sags back on the table like he's lost all of his bones. 

For a long moment, the two men sit there together, feeling the nearness of the other and the gentle euphoria of the afterglow. With a sigh, Neville pulls back, reaching for his wand and cleaning up.

He blinks. Once more, twice, three times. Each time, it's like a layer of haze lifts from his eyes, until they're completely clear. 

He looks up, locking with Percy's stunned gaze, and the full realization of what has transpired here in the back of Greenhouse Four, and with whom, precisely, it has transpired, seems to hit both of them at the same time.

"I - " Percy gets out, then falls silent, unable to get past that. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. 

Neville looks away, which brings him to the slowly purpling bruises along Percy's neck. His cheeks heat up, and he shifts his gaze - and something sparkles.

"What the - ?" Frowning, he reaches out for Percy's shoulder, fingers brushing along the black fabric. Percy shrinks back a tiny bit, but Neville hardly notices. His fingers come away shimmering, and he takes a small, cautious sniff. Just that tiny smell makes his head spin.

"Pollen?" he says more to himself than to his increasingly bemused company. "But from what?"

As though his subconscious knows what his conscious brain won't consider, his eyes go to the golden 'lovers' bells' near the front of the greenhouse. 

"The lovers' bells," he breathes. "The pollen has aphrodisiac properties!"

"How can it?" Percy sputters, and Neville remembers he's standing in between the redhead's legs, the top of Percy's trousers still undone, and a tiny part of him thinks that it would be so easy to crawl on top of him and -

"I mean, you said you've been in here loads of times with other people, and nothing's happened."

Neville shakes away the thoughts. "I need to look into this. I - " He's not sure how to end that sentence and instead clumsily does up his own trousers, then casts a quick, almost shy look at Percy before setting off.

Footsteps a few paces behind him lets him know that Percy's following him, and Neville is relieved and embarrassed. They go in silence into Neville's office, and Neville skims his magical botany books until he finds the one he's looking for. 

"Here we are," he says, hoisting it off the shelf. He drops it onto his desk with a thump and flips it open, frowning a little as he skims through it. Although his focus is on the book, he's very aware when Percy steps up behind him to look over his shoulder and pretends to read an entry to catch his breath.

"Here - _Alstroemeria campana_. Lovers' bells. 'Although the lovers' bells are only said to ring in the presence of lovers, study has found that they will ring whenever two people are near it, whether they are lovers or not. What is more nebulous, however, is the effect of the pollen. Some research has shown that it has an aphrodisiac effect, and others show it has no effect. In folklore, however, there is a curious common thread in any story mentioning the lovers' bells - it appears they only have an effect on parties who,' um." He swallows, feeling the back of his neck turn red. "Um, 'who would have consented to the coupling even without the effects of the pollen.'"

Well, that certainly answers one or two questions about Percy Weasley.

"Oh." He can almost hear Percy thinking, well, that answers one or two questions about _you_ , Neville Longbottom. 

His eyes go back to the sentence again. "'...who would have consented to the coupling even without the effects of the pollen.'" Despite himself, he smiles. It seems he wasn't the only one having unprofessional thoughts. 

"I think we ought to, ah, probably should just dismiss this, I don't think it necessarily needs to make its way back to the Minister or the Headmistress, but, er, you should probably move with caution around the, ah, the lovers' bells - "

"I have a better idea," Neville says. He gathers up that much-vaunted Gryffindor courage and closes the book, turning to face the older man. 

"Which is?" Percy asks when Neville doesn't seem to be forthcoming. Despite his best efforts otherwise, he can't quite hold back that crooked smile, like he knows what's coming and already likes it.

"Fancy a drink?"

Percy pauses. That smile grows, and it makes Neville smile, too. 

"I suppose that would be acceptable. Let me get my cloak."

 _Eighteen months later._  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley!" a few fourth-year girls chorus as they exit Greenhouse Two. They look back at him and giggle, ducking their heads together and hurrying back to the castle. 

Percy waves, waiting for the rest of the class to clear out, and inwardly, he sighs. They absolutely know. They had been subtle about it, he'd thought, but apparently not enough to escape the notice of some fourteen-year-old Hufflepuffs. 

"Professor?" he calls, stepping into the greenhouse. Neville peels off his heavy dragonhide gloves and smiles.

"Afternoon, Mr. Weasley. Wasn't expecting you today."

"Yes, well, I got an owl. I thought I'd share it with you."

"Everything okay?" Neville steps around the table, and, heedless of if there are students there or not, presses a quick, chaste kiss to Percy's lips.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," Percy replies. He reaches into the pocket of his suit coat and pulls a small rectangle of stiff paper from it, which he offers to Neville. Neville takes it with a hum of thanks and looks at it, brows puckering over his eyes. The front of the card bears a fairly accurate image of Hogsmeade, though significantly cleaner and brighter than it's been in his experience. 

"The Wizarding World of Harry Potter?" he murmurs, spotting a mark in the corner. "Universal Studios Orlando?" He looks at Percy for an explanation but the redhead shakes his head, gesturing for Neville to flip it over. 

On the other side is Percy's address in London and a few words: 

_Mr. Weasley - your hard work has paid off! We are having a grand time here. Hope you'll be able to see it soon. Respectfully, K. Shacklebolt._

"It's - " Neville begins. 

"- a massive violation of the Statute of Secrecy?" Percy blurts out, unable to keep it back a moment longer. 

"A theme park," Neville finishes. He starts laughing. "That's why the Americans were here? To design a theme park?"

"Based on those, on those, books and films!" Percy sputters. "Minister Shacklebolt thinks it's fine because the Muggles think it's fictional, but I think it's setting a very dangerous precedent! What's next? Cotton candy in Diagon Alley? A, a carousel in a mock-up of the Ministry? If you start this then there won't be -"

Neville decides to stop this rant right there and takes Percy's shoulder, pulling him close and kissing him until he stops flailing. 

"You ought to be grateful, anyway," he says, pulling back just enough to speak. 

"Why's that?"

"Because you've got the Americans and their theme park to thank for giving us the kick in the pants we apparently needed."

Percy smiles, that same one that looks like it's coming out despite himself, like he doesn't meant to look so happy but can't quite stop it. "I suppose that's fair. But I still think - "

Neville kisses him again. "Let me get my things together and you can tell me about all the laws it's breaking over tea, all right?"

"Fine. We'll need a lot of tea."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

**Author's Note:**

> Neville/Percy has been a pairing I've always been curious about but never really explored, but they are a delight. Title is from "Aphrodisiac" by Bow Wow Wow. The boys aren't mine and I'm not making any money off of this. Thanks for reading!


End file.
